


Stairway to Heaven

by arazialotis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 09:11:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arazialotis/pseuds/arazialotis
Summary: There’s no way I did it justice, but this story was completely inspired by Led Zeppelin’s Stairway To Heaven.The reader and Dean have been in a relationship for years. They found nothing but comfort in each other. But that all changes when Dean learns the reader only came into their life on a deal.





	Stairway to Heaven

Dean lay underneath as you straddled his lap, nothing between you but an entanglement of sheets. He still panted, out of breath from the sweet pleasure that had occured just moments before. Beads of sweat glistened against his skin, matching the flecks of gold hidden in the forest that were his eyes. You brought his hand to your lips, lightly brushing his knuckles against them.

“Dean?” You softly called.

“Yeah sweetheart?” He answered bringing his free hand up behind your ear and gently through your hair.

You leaned your cheek into his palm and placed his hand down. He slowly ran it up your bare thigh, squeezing gently. A tear escaped the corner of your eye. Dean’s thumb automatically wiped it away.

He sat up in a hurry. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked concerned.

You grabbed the nearest sheet and wrapped it around you as more tears started to spill over.

“Talk to me, Y/N.” He pleaded, now pulling you in closer. “Did I hurt you?”

“No… It’s… I…” You paused getting the tears under control. You turned around leaning your back against his chest so he couldn’t see your face. One more inhale and your shaky breath steadied. “Do you remember how long ago we first met?” It would be easier if he pieced it together.

“Hmmm.” Dean hummed. “I’d say nine and a half years ago.”

You nodded your head. “You and Sam came to my town for a case…” You recalled. “My stepdad was wrapped up in the middle of it. You saved him. And you saved me… by letting me come with you and Sam. Inviting me into your home, into your family.”

“That’s right.” Dean affirmed, still confused by the whole ordeal.

“Do you remember what the case was?” You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself - almost as containment - but a broken sob still shattered through.

Dean’s brow furrowed as he tried to recall. His eyes widened and his brows popped up. He forcefully grabbed you by the shoulder and swung you around. “What did you do, Y/N?!” He demanded. “Answer me!” He practically shook you to force it out.

You still refused to look at him. Your voice barely broke a whisper. “I made a deal.”

His breath faltered. He pulled you in tight against his chest. His heart pounded and the arms around you almost began to hurt as he processed his racing thoughts.

“I wanted the chance to be brave, to make a difference, somewhere to belong…” Dean pushed you aside and stood up, dressing in a hurry. “Please don’t hate me…” You begged.

“Y/N…” His voice broke off. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. You consequently pulled the sheet closer to you, concealing your naked figure; embarrassed and ashamed. “I mean, is any of this real?”

“Of course it’s real!” You argued. “I never intended…” 

“I just…” He interrupted. “I need some air.”

He left you alone in the hotel room and did not return.

...Three Days Later...

Dean had returned to the bunker and caught Sam up to speed. His eyes had been swollen red for the past couple of days; he waved it off as lack of sleep. Sam was enjoying his breakfast in the library, catching up on some reading when Dean entered, geared up and packed.

He passed straight through until Sam stopped. “Where are you heading?” 

Dean paused in the entryway contemplating if he should engage Sam or not. “Crowley,” was all he stated.

Sam gulped. The King of Hell was ruthless and cunning. Sam was convinced the only reason they were still alive was because Crowley saw them as entertainment. If they grew as a nuisance, there’s no telling what would happen. Sam was about to object but Dean interjected.

“Don’t try and stop me.” He protested. “I don’t care what we are feeling or thinking, I don’t care if everything for the past nine years has been a lie. It’s a case as any other, so I’m taking it.”

You had built up the courage to return to the bunker, your home. You arrived early morning and snuck through the garage door with Dean’s favorite beer and black licorice in hand to try to make amends. The bunker was quiet until you made your way to the kitchen and overheard Dean. His words cut through the already sore wound. Trying to help you, not because you were family, not because he loved you, simply because you were just another case. But you weren’t going to tuck tail and run now, you entered the library, catching them both by surprise. Dean stared at you momentarily before breaking his gaze. You couldn’t decipher if he was relieved, angry, or mourning.

“Don’t you think, I’ve already tried that.” You broke the silence. “Crowley won’t budge on the deal, and he’s not that easy to persuade when he’s got hellhounds on his side.” You set the beer on the table and tossed the licorice to Dean. He caught it with both hands and smiled, knowing how much you despised the stuff.

“Y/N.” Sam addressed you. “How could you… You had so much ahead of you.” 

“What can I say… Ten years seems like infinity to a nineteen year old. A kid who was chasing a distant parent’s dream, not her own. A kid who was lost in a sea of faces. But then came along two brothers. And they noticed me, they saw value in me, and gave me meaning… It came so fast and I saw it was slipping away just as quickly. And I wanted more…” You tried to explain yourself. You tried to search Dean’s face yet again, getting some response, some emotion.

“You have to understand how this is a shock to us.” Sam continued.

“Is it though? You would have never let me come along in the first place… I tried…” You defended. “I know things are never going to be the same, I know you don’t trust your feelings or me right now. But I only asked for the opportunity. The relationships we’ve built, the love we had…” Dean’s jaw clenched. “That was never a part of the deal…”

“None of that matters.” Dean finally spoke. “We’re getting you out of this.”

“I already have a way out.” You lied.

They both looked at you confused.

“A while back, I talked to Cas… there’s a loophole.” You fabricated. “If I save enough souls during my remaining time, I can buy my way into heaven.”

“So you’ll still…” Sam’s breath shook. He couldn’t finish the thought.

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “Except it will be a lot less bloody. Not as many teeth and claws.” You tried to lighten the mood with a joke but they didn’t take it.

You moved your stuff from the shared room with Dean to the room you had used when you first arrived. As the weeks passed, you hoped things would return to normal but other than second glances, Dean was distant. He no longer held you close or nuzzled his warm breath into your neck. He didn’t reach out for your hand or try to make you smile. The only positive thing coming from it was the separation made it easier to hide the truth.

As weeks started to turn into months, you didn’t have much time to think or even breathe. Dean was so focused on jumping from case to case. Focusing on exorcising instead of using the demon blade, processing with ghosts rather than burning bones. And as soon as you were done, he had another one lined up. You knew he still cared somewhere in there. He was racking up your saved souls. He was helping you build a stairway to heaven which never even existed. But he didn’t need to know that.

Two months to go and the hallucinations began. Slowly at first; whispering voices and shadows behind trees. Each passing day they grew in severity and terror; creeping closer into the hotel rooms and staring at you through mirrors. You realized you couldn’t keep the act going for long. The lie would come full circle eventually. In between hunts, travelling from one town to another, you slipped out during the middle of the night. Never intending to return.

You still took hunts here and there, while you felt sane enough. You wanted nothing more to fight it out until the end; thus causing you to become more reckless. The countdown was at three weeks. Maybe that’s why you decided to take on a nest of ghouls solo. You had a feeling this hunt would be your last. You’d take out what you could but you truly did not want to come back.

It was midnight when you entered the crypt. They’d be up and they’d be active. But you didn’t wish to take them by surprise. The passage stemming from an empty coffin was already open, revealing the hollow ground underneath. You jumped into the grave without acknowledging the irony. The tunnels were primitive, as if giant moles had dug through. Roots stuck through the walls and the ground was uneven.

As you neared closer to the entrance of their lair, it became apparent a struggle was happening from the other end. You rushed in, machete in hand, ready to save someone’s day for the last time. But you were not prepared for what you encountered.

The eldest Winchester turned at your appearance and the fight left his face. “Y/N?” His voice quavered. Over a month had passed since you last saw him.

At his distraction, the last ghoul raced towards him, knife in hand.

“Dean!” You tried to call his attention to the danger, but he seemed frozen.

In three quick bounds you closed the distance between you, swinging the machete with all your might. As you made contact, the ghoul made one last effort. It thrusted its knife up and up; each tormenting second lunging deeper, tearing into your chest. You swung through completing its end. You took a half a step back. The machete dropped from your hand as you looked down at the hilt of the knife.

“No, no, no.” Dean quietly moaned.

He caught you as you fell, guiding you gently down, cradling you in his arms.

“Sam!” He called, his voice cracking. Tears started spilling over, rolling down his face and dropping onto your cheeks and lips. “Don’t worry baby, we’re going to fix this.” Dean anxiously looked around but Sam was nowhere to be seen. You could barely find his voice over the humming in your own head.

“Shhh.” You hushed. Your eyelids were growing heavy. “It’s okay. I made it.” A sob broke through Dean as he brushed your hair aside. “I can see the pearly gates already…” You attempted to joke, but the soft laugh gave way to coughing. Dean’s salty tears on your lips were replaced with the taste of sharp metal you knew to be blood.

“Stop it.” He pleaded. “You still have time, we’ll find a way.” Your eyes fluttered closed but Dean wouldn’t have it. “Come on baby, stay with me.” He lightly shook you.

The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and excruciating pain ripped through your body. Your brow furrowed together and your breath became more ragged. You felt warmth starting to leave your body.

“I’ll wait for you there” You whispered. “Just d.. don.. Don’t come by too soon.”

“… I can’t…” He begged. “Y/N, I need you.”

“You’ll be okay…” You assured. “It’ll be okay…” You told yourself as darkness began swarming in and instead of a cloudy staircase your soul was being consumed by shadowy flames. Demons, not angels, were calling you to join them.

“Y/N…. Y/N…” Dean called to your lifeless body. “Don’t leave me.”

Dean stayed put, even after Sam rushed in. He cradled you, his face buried in your hair, rocking you back and forth. He waited for these tortuous emotions to lift, for the alleviation of this agonizing pain now that your deal had been fulfilled. But relief never came. And he now knew that his time spent wrestling, hopelessly wondering what was real, was wasted. He knew that his feelings were not part of the deal, that he was never altered to care for you. He truly loved you, but now it was too late.


End file.
